


Nightfall

by kqhwafellaz



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Friendship, Gen, Minor Violence, Wooyoung-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-11-15 15:11:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18075776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kqhwafellaz/pseuds/kqhwafellaz
Summary: Hongjoong lets out a sound that resembles suspiciously a gasp of pity, Wooyoung’s chest feels heavier and heavier with every passing second.





	Nightfall

**Author's Note:**

> okay so!! I had [this idea](https://twitter.com/kqhwafellaz/status/1093910152032514049) a while ago and I've had this work sitting on my docs, entirely finished, for quite a while, but wasn't really sure of what to do with it, making an ao3 account terrified me too but here I am with my first fully-text ateez fic, I'm nervous, I hope everyone likes it sfddsg English is not my native language either, so feel free to let me know if I make any mistake (or used a word incorrectly) because no matter how many times I proof read something I sometimes just don't notice some of them, without any more preamble I hope you like this story!

The first thing Wooyoung notices when he opens his eyes is that the sky is dark, small diamonds of light shining right over his head as he, for some reason, lies on the ground. The second thing he notices is the headache that threatens to crack his skull open, so intense it makes him whine out loud. The third thing he notices, and the most important so far, are the trees surrounding him, and how he can clearly distinct everything as if it was plane daylight, where was he?

 

He sits up, dumbfounded by his surroundings, and he screams when he looks down at himself, lying on a pool of blood with his clothes absolutely destroyed.

 

 _“What’s going on what’s going on what’s going on_ ” his brain chants so loud and fast his headache just intensifies –despite him thinking it’d be impossible for such a thing to happen– completely in panic yet not being able to move a muscle, petrified by the intense fear creeping through his body, settling and wrapping itself firmly against his bones.

 

“Hey it’s okay, don’t look, don’t look” someone says close to him, the thought of ‘ _how could I not notice someone standing close to me when I can easily tell just by hearing that the highway it’s at least 5 km away’_ flashing briefly through his head before he tries to back up from the stranger, whose grip on Wooyoung’s shoulder is firm while bringing a hand up to cover his eyes, “Don’t look at this” he repeats.

 

The stranger’s hands are very cold, but somehow the contact doesn’t make Wooyoung shiver, he just fights the person until he gets them off his personal space, opening his eyes to find who he supposed was his attacker laying on the ground a few feet away from him, it confuses him, how did he get there?

 

“What did you do to me?” he screams, ignoring the way his head screams back, sending a sharp pain through his whole body.

 

The attacker stands up slowly, muttering something about a new born, and gets on his knees, looking at Wooyoung from where he is. He looks small, probably not even taller than Wooyoung himself –who, admittedly, lacks a little when it comes to body length–, his skin impossibly pale and his figure elegant as he sits on his heels, slowly rising up his hands to show Wooyoung he doesn’t want to hurt him.

 

“I didn’t do this, I swear I didn’t do it” The small man says, his voice is charming, soothing, and he reaches a delicate hand out to Wooyoung, even though he’s kind of far. “I can help you, if you let me”

 

“Why would I trust you” Wooyoung screams again, his hands falling to the ground but immediately going back up when they make contact with the blood that is surrounding him, he feels like throwing up, unable to tear his eyes off it.

 

“Don’t look at that, don’t look at that, no” the stranger calls quickly, moving his palms in a fast gesture, relaxed features contracting into slight panic, “Look at me, I can help you, let me get you out of here, I will explain it all, I will guide you”

 

He doesn’t know what to do, he refuses to look down again but his hands, as well as his back and the back of his legs, are damp in the blood that’s surrounding him anyway, his clothes are torn to pieces and he’s sitting in the middle of a mini bloody lake, nowhere near anything he could possibly recognize, and alone with this petit man who’s offering to help with an sweet voice and eyes that sparkle against the pale moonlight. Wooyoung shouldn’t trust him, it could be very dangerous and even lead him to his death, but he needs answers and if the small man says he can give them to him then he’ll take the help.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The small man, _Hongjoong_ , leads him to some sort of house under the ground; they go in by a cave and eventually find their way in through dark tunnels Wooyoung somehow manages to distinguish despite the darkness soaking the whole place. They arrive to their destination, a big metallic door opening quietly and letting them both in what resembles a completely normal house, light bulbs giving the living room some illumination and Wooyoung hisses because it burns his eyes, Hongjoong is quick to turn them off, tugging at the front of Wooyoung’s shredded shirt to get him to move, and quickly shoving him into a bathroom.

 

“We can talk in a minute okay? But you need to get off these first” Hongjoong says, tugging at the shirt Wooyoung’s been wearing open over his sweatshirt, dried blood sticking to his back, “I will bring some clothes for you, just wait here” he adds, walking off muttering _he must be around San’s height_ , leaving Wooyoung confused.

 

When he comes back he’s carrying a clean set of clothes, and he doesn’t allow Wooyoung to say anything before shoving the clothes as well as some brand new toiletries into the taller’s hands and pushing him into the bathroom, leaving him alone.

 

Wooyoung tries to turn the lights on, adjusting them as low as he can, but it still hurts, so he just gives it up and turns them off as he strips out of his clothes and gets under the warm water, quietly wondering how is it that there’s a house in such a place, how do they count with basic services such as water and light, and _why the fuck did I agree to come here_.

 

He dries himself up once he’s done, he can see the blood that once was on his body sliding into the pipeline, moved by the water, and the clothes he was first wearing, his shirt shredded and everything dirty with dust and blood. A thought of what could’ve happened flashes through his mind and he shakes violently, barely falling to the floor, but it can’t be, it can’t be because he’s here and he’s fine, he’s alive.

 

He leaves the bathroom quickly, not before tossing his old clothes into the trashcan, and hurries to the living room to find Hongjoong. The smaller is sitting there, a cup in front of him as he looks at the wall at the other side of the room, for a moment Wooyoung thinks he hadn’t noticed him walking in, but then he sighs and mutters a command for Wooyoung to come closer.

 

The taller sits next to him, not really close, but not that far either because the couch is not too big.

 

“What’s your name?” He asks, and it’s only then that Wooyoung notices he hasn’t said a word since he yelled at him in the forest.

 

“Jung Wooyoung” he says, his voice is barely a whisper, his head hurts less but it still hurts, and he feels heavy and tired.

 

“How old are you, Wooyoung?” Hongjoong asks this time, his voice sounds incredibly sad, like he’s saying goodbye forever to someone he’s loved his entire life, like he’s not on the verge of tears but will be once Wooyoung looks away.

 

“I-” he stutters, “I just turned 19 years old two weeks ago”

 

Hongjoong lets out a sound that resembles suspiciously a gasp of pity, Wooyoung’s chest feels heavier and heavier with every passing second.

 

“Wooyoung, you need to calm down now okay?” Hongjoong says next, leaning forwards to rest a hand over Wooyoung’s own on top of the other’s knee, squishing it momentarily before pulling back, “do not let your emotions control you, I know it is gonna be hard but you need to take deep breathes yes? Close your eyes and focus on breathing when it becomes too much”

 

With each new word Hongjoong just confuses Wooyoung even more, his head spinning at a faster rate, he is overwhelmed by the simplest thing, and he decides to listen to the other and breathe, in, out, in, out, until he feels ready to open his eyes again and nod at him.

 

“Wooyoung I’m sorry, you’re dead” Hongjoong says, grimacing, there’s so much shame on his voice, “I think you were killed, I found you because I could smell your blood, your heartbeats were so weak there was no way you were gonna be able to survive”

 

Wooyoung’s frozen in place, looking at Hongjoong with an expression he hopes reflects how dumbfounded he is at the nonsense Hongjoong is spitting, how could he be dead when he’s right here, sitting in front of the other?

 

“Breathe, breathe” Hongjoong says, and it’s not until then that Wooyoung notices he’s got his knees gripped so hard it should hurt, “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t sure of what I should’ve done, so I just did what I thought was better”

 

“But I’m alive” Wooyoung whispers, looking at his hands and palming the soft pants Hongjoong got for him, pinching his arm and confirming that it in fact hurts, “I am not dead”

 

Hongjoong grimaces harder, eyebrows furrowed and lip trapped between his teeth, he looks at Wooyoung straight in the eyes for a few moments.

 

“You’re not” Hongjoong says, tugging at Wooyoung’s arm to show him the mark of teeth that he didn’t notice when taking his shower, it’s faint but there, dark purple around it, “I’m so sorry, Wooyoung, but you would’ve _completely_ died otherwise.”

 

Wooyoung is confused, he’s more than confused, his headache has became stronger and he feels as if the world is spinning, he does not understand any of this, he does not understand what’s going on, all he knows is that he _does not_ understand anything at all.

 

“You must be thirsty” Hongjoong says, placing a hand on his back and grabbing the cup that had been sitting on the coffee table in front of him to bring it close to Wooyoung’s face.

 

He didn’t notice until the delicious smell hit his nose that his throat had been hurting like crazy, he’s dehydrated, and he figures a sip from the drink can’t hurt. It’s not until he does drink from it, though, that he’s proven otherwise.

 

At first he doesn’t notice, it is warm and delicious and it eases the insistent burn in his throat, the taste so good he’s completely caught up on it, eyes closed while he enjoys it, then he opens his eyes, staring at the drink and immediately throwing the cup away so hard it flies to the other side of the room, crashing against a wall while he spits and wills himself to throw up.

 

Hongjoong’s hand is on his back in the matter of a second, rubbing up and down.

 

“That’s it, it’s good” he says, “You don’t need to drink much right now, the poison is still working”

 

“What did you do to me?” Wooyoung snaps, standing up rapidly and staring at Hongjoong terrorized.

 

The other looks more than just apologetic, lips turned downwards as he stays sitting on the couch.

 

“I bit you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It takes a while until it settles in that Wooyoung is actually _dead_ , that he can’t go back to his old house ever again, he can’t go back to his old life, because he lost it all that night Hongjoong found him laying on the a puddle made by his own blood.

 

It takes a while to settle in, but once it does, all Wooyoung wants to do is beat Hongjoong up for getting him into this.

 

He gets it, the older never meant anything bad by turning him into what he is now, if anything he had the best intentions, but he can’t help the hate that bubbles inside his chest, boiling like lava because he’d rather be dead now.

 

Hongjoong told him so, he told him these feelings would eventually come, that he’d feel this or that way, and that he’d learn to manage that and the other, he remembers clearly, but it’s all bullshit.

 

He doesn’t want to die because he’s immortal now, or because he needs to drink blood to survive, he wants to die because that is what he should have done from the start, he wants to die because at least that would be a better thing to keep him away from his family and friends than the fact that he could potentially kill them without being able to control himself, or that they would try to kill him as soon as they realized what he was, which, Hongjoong affirms, would not take long.

 

 Apparently Wooyoung and Hongjoong are not the only ones of their kind either –they don’t use the v word, ever, because it apparently is really offensive and hurtful–, the house being the refuge of various others like them. They accept Wooyoung in with pitiful smiles, they never say _it’s okay_ , but they do say that they’re sorry.

 

Wooyoung doesn’t know them well, he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t need to, he stays in the room that was assigned to him and drowns in the negative feelings that surround him, drowns in his thirst for blood that is only surpassed in size by his thirst for revenge. No matter how much he thinks about that night he can’t seem to remember, anything about that whole day being a blurred out memory, and Hongjoong can only provide him a simple _when I got there, you were already almost gone_ that only makes him feel more frustrated and infuriated than he already is.

 

He refuses to leave the room under any circumstances, he refuses to “hunt” with them, no matter how much Hongjoong insists that he needs to drink something to stay with them, and he refuses to drink the blood that’s brought to him either, because if he can’t do anything about not dying when he should’ve then his last resource is the starvation.

 

The others besides Hongjoong try to help him, to talk him out of his room, to get him to drink something, but he simply stays quiet and tunes off as they speak. Only Seonghwa, the oldest of them all, doesn’t say anything to convince him to drink or go out, he simply walks into Wooyoung’s room and sits at the desk, keeping him company, rarely ever exchanging some words, it’d be a lie to say it’s not nice to have someone with him that does not try to strip him from his inhibitions.

 

But it’s only a matter of time, even Seonghwa, who tries not to ever say anything about it, told him so, he’s a new born, and new borns have stronger desires, stronger emotions, they’re overall stronger than the ones of them who’ve been alive for a longer time, and it’s way more difficult for them to control themselves, but Wooyoung is stubborn and he doesn’t listen, he doesn’t want to listen, even when he can’t stay still on his spot, barely two weeks later, walking around the room or tossing and turning on his bed, the thirst all but driving him crazy, he refuses to leave his room.

 

It’s during the same second week it happens, towards the end of 3 am when the others come back from hunting, Mingi makes his way to Wooyoung’s room with a cup of fresh blood in his hand, mind set in convincing the younger of drinking at least a sip, but when he opens the door Wooyoung is laying on the floor, his breathing ragged and his head lulls back and forth, his eyes glossed and disoriented.

 

Mingi winces, giving a step into the room and closing the door behind him.

 

“Wooyoung” he calls, his voice full of worry, but whatever he wants to say dies in his throat because Wooyoung is quick to stand up, pushing him against the wall, the cup of fresh blood falling over to the floor as the younger chooses to bite on Mingi’s shoulder hardly instead.

 

The taller doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t do anything either, he just stays still and allows Wooyoung to drink as much as he want, knowing damn well he’ll have to drink more himself as soon as they’re done.

 

Wooyoung falls down to his knees after a few minutes, mouth covered in blood as he breathes in and out trying to control himself, he doesn’t need to breathe anymore, but it surely helps.

 

“I’m sorry” he pants out, “I’m sorry Mingi I didn’t mean to do that”

 

“It’s fine” Mingi says, bending down to clean his mouth with the sleeve of his own shirt, then helping him on his feet, making sure to grab the cup before circling Wooyoung’s shoulders with his arm, “let’s go to the living room okay? You can drink some more there”

 

Wooyoung doesn’t protest, he doesn’t have the energy to, he feels high, his body light as Mingi brings him to the living room and sits him down on the couch next to Yeosang.

 

“He just drank some from me” Mingi says, pointing at his shoulder when Yeosang gives them a questioning look, then bending down to look at Wooyoung in the eyes, “You’ll feel dizzy for a while okay? You haven’t drank anything in a while, and you drank from me, so it’ll feel a bit like, uh, being drunk” Mingi explains, going on about how and why drinking from others like them causes that effect, but Wooyoung can only focus on one thing.

 

“Your eyes are so small” he says, interrupting Mingi mid-sentence, and lifting his hand to touch them, “they’re _so_ small”

 

He can hear Yeosang giggle, and Mingi smiles while he tears his hands off his face.

 

“I’ll just get you some blood.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wooyoung’s vengeful spirit only grows wilder as the time goes by, he feels chocked by the feelings of hate and bitterness, he craves revenge, and he’s certain he won’t give up until he gets it, even if Hongjoong insists it won’t help him feeling better.

 

Apparently the one who killed him didn’t kill only him, but a few other people, making him a brand new serial killer. Wooyoung isn’t one hundred percent certain this person was the one to end his life, once again he does not really remember anything about the day he died, but the news said he’s a suspect for his disappearance –Wooyoung choked when he saw his own face in the news– so there must be reason for that, and it becomes his personal task to find him.

 

Yunho and Jongho help him, they form a team every three days when it’s time to hunt, and after a quick meal they’re off to take matters under their own hands until the sky begins to change from a dark blue to a lighter one, forcing them to run back to their house. He isn’t certain why Yunho and Jongho want to help him, but he doesn’t ask any questions, by the attitude they take it seems like this revenge is as theirs as it is Wooyoung’s, as if this same man did what he did to Wooyoung to them.

 

It’s not like curiosity is not killing Wooyoung –leaving aside the fact that well, he’s basically already dead–, but he doesn’t feel confident enough to ask about the ways they took to each other, how did they end up together, how did they end up in that house inside a cave. He doesn’t dare to voice out his doubts, and no one seems to think he should know yet either, because not even once neither of them –not even Seonghwa, who Wooyoung considers the closest to him amongst all the others– take a step forwards to enlighten him on their lives.

 

It takes a while, almost a month before they find the man who (supposedly) killed Wooyoung, they catch him standing in a corner, smoking a cigarette as his greasy hair falls down on his face, his round glasses fogged by the chilly air of the night. Wooyoung feels himself go crazy, he does an attempt to run at him, ready to tear his head away from his body in one go, but Jongho and Yunho stop him, pushing him back.

 

“Not here, too public” Yunho says –whispers–, against Wooyoung’s ear, ever the careful one, both hands firmly wrapped around Wooyoung’s right arm while Jongho holds the other.

 

“Over there, an alley” Jongho whispers next, removing one of his hands off Wooyoung’s arm and bringing it up to his head, moving it so he can look away from the man and to the alley that’s a few steps away from him.

 

“Got a plan?” Yunho asks, but of course Wooyoung doesn’t, how could he? his plan didn’t go further than find and kill, because he’s stupid like that.

 

“I think I’ve got you hyung” Jongho says, when he notices the lost look on Wooyoung’s face, and he proceeds to explain.

 

 

 

 

 

Wooyoung breathes in one, two times, and starts walking down the street, slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket as he moves looking forwards. An average person probably wouldn’t be as fast, but Wooyoung can notice the exact moment he catches the man’s interest, and he keeps getting closer, steps steady and light, like he’s a carefree teenager, one that wasn’t already murdered once.

 

When Wooyoung stands in the corner next to the one where the man is, waiting for the traffic lights to change to red allowing him to cross the road, he can see the way the man’s face changes, there’s shock painted all over it, and his heart beat increases rapidly, Wooyoung guesses that’s the only thing he needs to confirm this man knows him. He hums, lowly, low enough that he knows only Jongho and Yunho who secretly follow him can hear him, and he crosses the road, giving the man a disgusted look, muttering a low _loser_ while he walks next to him, and getting into the alley.

 

It’s not even a minute before the man follows him, but of course he would, because he’s dumb enough to follow a ghost into a dark place, a ghost he personally made mad.

 

“Hey kid” The man says, and Wooyoung turns on his heels smiling cheekily, walking backwards as he sees the man follow him, “have we met?”

 

“Don’t you remember me?” Wooyoung shoots back, the coldness of his words surprises even himself, and maybe he’d get goosebumps if he wasn’t dead.

 

The color drains from the man’s face, touching his glasses before turning to go away, but he’s quickly stopped by both Yunho and Jongho, who push him back into the alley until he falls to the ground in front of Wooyoung.

 

“Don’t you remember what you did to me?” Wooyoung asks, a lot harder and now on top of the man, grabbing him by his shirt, he can hear the other’s heart beat faster, can practically see the blood rushing through his veins.

 

Yunho gently moves his head so it’s resting over the floor, careful not to hit it too hard so the man doesn’t instantly die.

 

“Now I’m gonna take away from you what you took away from me” Wooyoung whispers, vengeance possessed, and he can see the look of fear in the man’s eyes.

 

“How are you alive?” He says, voice shaky and breathing coming out ragged, “I killed you, I stabbed you until I was sure you weren’t breathing anymore”

 

It sparks a light of special fury inside Wooyoung’s chest, and he has to hold himself back not to tear his extremities away from his body right there. There’s a thud and the man screams, but it’s quickly muffled by Yunho’s hand, when Wooyoung looks back he finds that Jongho had kicked him, probably successfully breaking his hip.

 

“How are you alive?” the man moans though the pain, when Yunho’s hand parts from his mouth to allow him to breathe.

 

“Who said I’m alive?” Wooyoung questions, voice incredibly somber as he showcases his new set of fangs, ready to play all night long with the one who ruined and ended his life.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

None of the other questions them when they arrive home barely on time, the sun already rising, nor do they say anything when they see the news the following night and a reportage about the suspected murderer found brutally murdered himself resonates through the house, it’s not like they didn’t know Jongho, Yunho and Wooyoung were playing avengers for weeks straight trying to find him, it’s just that they have courtesy enough not to get their noses into other people’s business –if they’ve ever done something similar Wooyoung will probably never know, but he’s more soothed than anything to find out they don’t judge him at all.

 

It should ease him down, the fact that the man who killed him is finally off the streets, he got his revenge just as he wanted to, but it doesn’t ease him, at least not as much as he thought it would.

 

Saying that killing that motherfucker didn’t make him feel amazing would be a lie, of course he enjoyed his revenge a lot, but in the end it was more a dull act after it happened, sure he cleaned the streets a bit, and he didn’t really feel guilty at all for the awful things they did to the man –which should prove that he’s soulless now, if it wasn’t already clear to himself– but it still hurts, it hurts a lot, everything he lost and he can never get back.

 

After his blood thirst –yes literally, but not in this context– was sated, there wasn’t a sign of that quietude he was expecting for, instead, once his vendetta was complete and his angriness was poured over the numerous acts of torture he committed against the man a sudden feeling of sadness crept through his ribs, curling tightly yet delicately around his heart, squishing it tight and spreading itself around his whole body, making him feel heavy and worn off.

 

He doesn’t know how they fall into it, but San seems to become his support in some way, it’s not like they hug and he lets Wooyoung cry for hours while staying strong, like a rock, it’s more like they sit next to each other at a reasonable distance in somewhere really far from anywhere any of the others could be close to, and allow each other to crumble down without saying a word. San was one of the members that has been around for the longest –which isn’t really, you know, long, but the longest nonetheless– but it’s never made it more manageable for him to get used to the fact that he lost everything he had, which should make Wooyoung uneasy about his own asphyxiating pain, but instead it soothes him, lets him know it’s okay to hurt even if he doesn’t have a soul anymore.

 

“How was our life before?” San asks, his voice hoarse from crying, Wooyoung pictures him staring at the distance but doesn’t turn around to see, it’s like an unspoken rule between them, they don’t look at each other while they cry.

 

“A common life” Wooyoung answers, his eyes already itching with new tears coming, “I had a mom, a dad, my little sister, I was already in college”

 

“I had an older brother” San says, “he’s getting married in like, a month” Wooyoung can practically hear the grimace on his words.

 

His heart twists painfully at the thought of Seoyeon getting married someday, and how he’ll miss his little sister’s most important moments, how she won’t have anyone that’ll be willing to beat up any asshole that dares to bother her, and he can’t stop the sob that bubbles up within the deepest part of his non-beating heart. He feels an awful lot for someone who’s dead.

 

“My sister is only 9” He says, his voice broken, “most of her memories of me will be all blurry and distant, she’s not young enough to forget me, but she’s young enough to just feel the pain through smaller memories she will sporadically let go of, and blame herself for it”

 

San sobs, it sounds broken and pained, but mostly it sounds tired.

 

“She deserves better” he whines, probably thinking about his own brother and how _he_ deserves better than getting married with the fresh wound that the lost of a loved one had slid across his heart.

 

He reaches his hand out to a side, still without turning his head, and let it rest over the cold rock, it doesn’t take long before San’s own hand finds its way on top of his, and they just stay silent for the rest of the night, basking in their own misery.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Where San helps Wooyoung and serves as a support to get the sadness out of his organism, Yeosang serves as something similar, but not quite the same.

 

He doesn’t know much about Yeosang –he doesn’t know much about any of them but San and Seonghwa, because San complained a lot about his past life just like Wooyoung did during their sadness sessions, and Seonghwa always tried to stick to him, to keep him company and talk to him, until he eventually becomes the one Wooyoung trusts the most– but he doesn’t need to anyway, all he needs to know is that at times Yeosang feels like he does, stressed and tired of feeling miserable and crying, tired of being sad, just an empty shell, that’s not entirely empty.

 

 

Just like with San, Wooyoung isn’t certain of how they fall into their peculiar dynamics, it just seems to happen naturally, one night leading to another and another of going to the forests to destroy trees and release their angriness, or just walking around the dark and empty streets of the city, seeking to clear their minds, never saying a word but always appreciating the company and the quiet footsteps of that who walks beside them. It gets to the point where –once again, just like with San– they don’t need words anymore, Yeosang will just look at Wooyoung on an specific way, or the way around, and that’s all they need to know what  the other refers to.

 

It’s comforting, even a little warm, how Wooyoung seems to have lost a family but he gained another one, he couldn’t imagine how his journey would’ve been if Hongjoong had just left him to manage his new phase on his own, and even though for some time he had some resentment hiding inside a dark corner of his heart towards the older boy for what he had done, it vanished with the passing of time, replaced by a gratefulness to him for how much he worried even though he could’ve just let Wooyoung die, or drink the last of his blood that still remained inside his body without any resistance.

 

The hate, the anger and wildness that filled his whole body since the start of all of this are still there, but they’re less intense now, less strong, he’s still mad at the world for making him go through this, but it eases him to know at least he doesn’t have to do it alone. The sadness is there, too, and it will probably never vanish, even though he technically has forever to get over it, forever will certainly not be enough, but it’s okay, they’ve taught him it’s okay to be sad, and it’s okay to be angry, it’s okay to get tired of everything and it’s okay to break down, and having forever to at least try to grab a hold on his own emotions will surely help, even more when he knows he’s got people to help him and let him lean on them.

 

Yes, he lost a family, he lost a life, but he gained another.

**Author's Note:**

> if you made it all the way here thank you for reading my story! this is very different from the stuff I usually write (sad cheesy romances, this is just sad) so I'd really appreciate if you let me know what you think of this! (also, uh, some got more interaction than others and I didn't really notice until this was done but like... I didn't know how to modify it so I'm sorry sfdsf) you can also hmu on [twitter](https://twitter.com/kqhwafellaz) if you want♡♡♡


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